Time of Bliss
by Frigg
Summary: This could actually be considered an independent sequel to 'Worries on a Wedding Night'. A little longer than my previous and total fluff, I should add. Well, I intend to post as many stories as I can - in less than two weeks I'm off to ME (a.k.a. NZ) ---


**TIME OF BLISS**

Two weeks after the wedding, the last guests prepared to leave Edoras.

'Not that we have not enjoyed our stay' Aragorn said to his friend, the king of Rohan. They were sitting after supper, savouring the last of their wine and Aragorn was smoking his pipe, 'but I do have a kingdom to rule, and we cannot be sure that peace will last.'

'No, unfortunately', Éomer replied. 'We will be sad to see you leave, but so it must be.'

'I trust that you will have enough on your hands, as it is.' Aragorn said with a smile as he watched Lothíriel, Éowyn and Lothíriel's brothers, competing over a game, to which Elphir's wife and Faramir were spectators.

Queen Arwen, who had been having a quiet talk with Prince Imrahil, Lothíriel's father, joined the two men. As always when Éomer saw the queen and looked into her eyes, he got the feeling that she saw right through him. Ever since the first time he saw her at Aragorn's coronation, he had thought her the most beautiful female in all Middle Earth, of course not counting his wife.

Gimli and he had had one of their amicable discussions about which they considered the most beautiful, night or day, Arwen versus her grandmother, the fair Galadriel. Gimli, who had fallen victim to the beauty of the Lady of Lorien, advocated the day and Éomer the night. The party had all laughed heartily at the bantering of the pair. Aragorn had joined the discussion in mock-jealousy and Lothíriel, sure of her position in Éomer's heart, had feigned that she was deeply hurt, until Éomer had kissed her and assured her that of course she stood above all else, thus ending the discussion.

Arwen sat down beside her husband, smiling at him and the young king of Rohan. 'What are you two up to now,' she said. 'Nothing, my dear - well, nothing much anyway; just planning our next crusade', Aragorn said mischievously, 'just making sure that we are not bored to death at home with our wives.'

'Oh, no, it would not do having the kings of Gondor and Rohan succumb to boredom', Arwen chuckled.

'No, actually I was telling Éomer that we would be leaving the day after tomorrow, Faramir and I have things to do – and so have Imrahil and his sons,' Aragorn said, 'and besides I think that the newlyweds would probably like to have some time to themselves; more than they have been able to these last few days'. He glanced at Éomer, who was watching his wife with a tender smile, and winked at Arwen.

The players had finished their game; Lothíriel's brothers having to surrender to the two ladies, and Lothíriel turned to her father. 'I know that you will leaving soon, all of you, but it is so good to have you here.'

'Aye, and it's good to be with you and Éomer, but my darling, I do have a country to rule and now that the wars are over, there are things to rebuild and matters to settle. I trust that the same goes for Aragorn,' said Imrahil, putting his arm round his daughter.

'I know, Ada, and we also have to get used to our life together, Éomer and I, without having friends and family around.'

One day later, in the early morning Éomer stood on the stairs of Meduseld, saying goodbye to his guest. He hugged his sister, whispering into her ear: 'It has been good seeing you - if I am not mistaken, dear sister of mine, it will not be long, perhaps in the fall, until we meet again for a joyous occasion?'

'Brother of mine, you are far too perceptive – or otherwise you have been talking to Faramir, you git.'

'The latter', Éomer said with a roguish grin, 'and may I add, he is pretty proud of himself.'

'As well he should be,' said his sister 'he has been working on it for some time now.'

'Éowyn, is that a way for a married woman to talk – take good care of yourself, I shall miss you.' He kissed her and let her go, and then he turned towards Faramir, giving him a brotherly embrace. 'Promise me you will take care of her' he mumbled. His brother-in-law nodded 'You know, I will – if she will let me.'

Lothíriel had said goodbye to her family, and could not help crying a little. She watched Éomer clasp Aragorn's wrist in a brotherly salute and kiss the hand of the Lady Arwen. He shook the hands of his wife's brothers, and finally turned to his father-in-law and friend.

'I will not tell you to take care of her, because I know that you will – and I know that she will take good care of you. Always remember that you love each other,' Imrahil said.

'I treasure her, you know that, my friend, 'Éomer said, 'and I will do my best to make sure that she does not miss you too much.' The two men embraced and Éomer went to stand beside his wife, slipping an arm around her waist.

The two of them stood on the stairs, waving and watching until they no longer could see the others; the last thing they saw was the glinting of the jewels in the banner of King Elessar and the silver of the Swan Prince's banner as they unfolded in the breeze.

Éomer pulled his wife closer to him. 'And now we are left to ourselves, what are we going to do with our time?' he grinned.

'Knowing you – and I think that I am beginning to, I trust you will think of something.' Lothíriel looked up at her husband's handsome face. 'As long as I have him,' she thought, 'I shall not miss my family too much, and besides we will be seeing them soon enough. The childbirths in the fall will give us ample opportunities to meet.' She smiled to herself, remembering the news, Éowyn and Arwen had shared with her.

'What are you smiling at', Éomer asked as he led her into the hall towards their rooms. 'Oh, nothing, just something somebody told me.'

'Oh, you mean the fact that both Arwen and Éowyn are pregnant?' Éomer grinned.

'How did you know?' Lothíriel looked up at him.

'Do you really think that once Aragorn and Faramir knew for a fact that they were going to be fathers, that they would be able to keep it to themselves? I certainly would not be able to.'

'Oh, men' Lothíriel quipped 'I do believe that they are worse gossips than women!'

They had by now reached the corridor leading to their rooms and as no one was in sight, Éomer picked up his wife in his arms.

'You are going to pay for that remark', he said, his eyes shining mischievously.

Lothíriel giggled, 'Very dearly, I'm afraid – but Sire, in the middle of the morning, what will the servants say.'

'Frankly, my dear, I could not care less, ' he said as he carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

He tossed her unto the bed and began undressing her. It would have been foolish to think that the servants and Éomer's men did not notice, but as the couple was newlyweds and the Rohirrim not as preoccupied with propriety as others, they just sniggered about it and left it at that.

Things returned to normal in Edoras; Lothíriel occupied herself by learning the routines and pitfalls of the household of Meduseld, getting to know her maids and the women of the Court. Éowyn had, of course, given her a primary introduction to the ways and means of the household, but up until her betrothal to Faramir, the Shield maiden of Rohan had not been too interested in the running of the household, much preferring activities, which lay beyond housekeeping.

Therefore it came to the housekeeper of the king, Fréalin, to guide her queen in these matters. Fréalin had been housekeeper to king Théoden since his wife died giving birth to Théodred and she had known Éomer and his sister since they came to live at Edoras, when their parents died. She quickly took a liking to the bright, young queen. Not least because she realized just how much Lothíriel loved her husband, Éomer always being her favourite. Seeing this, the other women of the household soon also took to the queen, liking her for her direct manners and humorous nature.

Éomer was much occupied with his new duties, overseeing the rebuilding of the Westfold and of Helm's Deep. Scouts brought reports of bands of Haradrim and Southrons roaming the countryside, and also orcs had been seen at the borders. Éomer did not doubt that at some time or other, he and his men would be summoned by Aragorn to go to war again, but as it was right now, he enjoyed the peace and made an effort to get used to his new duties.

All these duties did not leave them very much time together, only the evenings and the nights were their own. Much of the evenings they spent talking with each other, and with the marshals Éothain and Haleth and their wives, who were frequent guests at court. Also Éomer's counsellors, Wyn and Haragrim were often present as were Gamling, Théoden's former lieutenant, now also one of Éomer's valuable counsellors, and they represented the more older and wiser part of the party.

The nights were an entirely different story; still being newly-weds, the young couple spent most of these exploring each other and adding to their knowledge of each other's pleasures.

They were mostly content with what they did, separately and together, however tedious some of the tasks may be. One morning, however, one month after the wedding, Éomer announced that he was not going to sit in council all day; only taking his steed, Firefoot, for a short run late in the day.

Éothain and Wyn, who had joined the king this morning, looked at him in amusement. 'And I'm not going to include any of you in this,' he said. 'I am taking my wife for a long ride in the countryside, it is the height of summer and she should see Rohan at its best before autumn and winter come.'

Éothain and Wyn chuckled at this, and Éothain rumbled: 'Aye, and knowing you, my Lord, you will probably have other purposes as well.'

Éomer grinned. 'That, my marshal and friend, is entirely none of your business.'

So, when Lothíriel came in from the kitchen, where she had been organising breakfast, she found her husband very informally dressed in breeches and a shirt, conspiring with Fréalin to have her arrange a hamper for them. From the grin on his face, Lothíriel gathered that something was afoot.

'And what is my Lord and husband up to now?' she inquired, placing her hands on her hips.

'I am taking a certain lady, whom I know quite intimately by now for a ride in the countryside, and I am only promising that we will be back _very _late in the evening.'

'I see, and who might that particular lady be; any one I know?'

'Certainly, my dear – go and find something casual to put on, unless you plan to ride side-saddle, which is the only thing you can do, dressed like that,' he said looking at her dress. Lothíriel laughed and hurried to their rooms to change into her riding gear.

When she returned to the hall, Fréalin had prepared the hamper and the couple ran to the stables hand in hand 'just a like a couple of children and indeed not very regally', Fréalin thought, as she smilingly shook her head and returned to her duties. Éomer had already ordered Firefoot and Lothíriel's mare Móna saddled and just had to fasten his sword to the saddle.

'Oh, my Lord is not going unarmed, even on an outing with his wife' Lothíriel quipped.

'No, a soldier never does,' Éomer said, 'not that I expect anything to happen, but still ... I would not go without it. And besides we are not bringing any guards.' Not for the world, would I have any witnesses to what I am planning to do today, he thought.

Once outside the gates of Edoras, they let the horses run free over the plains towards the White Mountains, and did not stop until they reached a small group of trees growing alongside a stream at a fair distance from the city. Lothíriel turned in the saddle, laughing at her husband:

'Oh, this was an excellent idea, not that I do not like my new life at Edoras, but I truly enjoy running free, just every once in a while.'

Éomer smiled at his wife's joy, 'I know what you mean, I've felt the same.'

He dismounted and went to his wife to help her down. 'I remember the first time I held you in my arms,' he said, 'I helped you dismount when you and Éowyn came back to the stables at Minas Tirith after taking a ride.'

'Yes, and you held me far too long - much to the dismay of Elphir, I remember.'

He held her close and kissed her softly. Then he released her and proceeded to remove the tackle of the horses, letting them walk free to eat grass and drink from the stream.

'Luckily Rohirrim horses are so well behaved,' Lothíriel chuckled, 'very unlike the men of Rohan.'

Éomer had placed the hamper and a blanket on the ground under the trees just beside the stream and turned to look at his wife. Even in the very boyish outfit she wore, she looked stunningly beautiful, her hair blowing freely in the breeze, freckles which the sun had brought forward across her nose and her deep green eyes sparkling from the ride. He caught his breath, thanking Béma for giving him this wonderful woman as a wife. 'Somewhere and somehow I must have done something good in this life,' he mused.

Lothíriel felt his eyes on her and looked back at him, her handsome husband. Tall, straight-backed and broad-shouldered; his long, blonde hair flowing freely over his shoulders and his hazel eyes very soft, the passion clouding them as he looked at her. In two strides, he reached the spot where she was standing and took her in his arms.

He kissed her fiercely, leaving her breathless. He then lifted her up and carried her to the blanket, where he set her down, his lips still against hers. Lothíriel lifted her arms and pulled him down to her, 'I thought you said that you respected me too much to expose me to a tumble in the grass,' she said with an enticing smile.

'Aye, but that was then – now you are mine; I did take you to my bed, now I can do what I please and I find the grass of Rohan a very suitable bed, indeed.' He lifted himself up on his elbow and looked down into her green eyes; they were full of mirth and love and he knew that she did not mind at all.

'Lothy, my love' he moaned and brought his mouth down on hers again. She parted her lips to let his tongue enter. Then she moved her hands up and started removing his clothing and he reciprocated that movement. She only had time to think 'I'm glad that we did not bring the entire Royal Guard'; then her husband's hands were all over her and they forgot entirely the world around them, only savouring each other and their lovemaking.

Éomer shifted onto his side and lifted himself up on his elbow to look at his wife. The sun was high in the sky and the summer was all around them.

'Hmm,' he said, 'there you see, the grass can indeed be very appropriate.'

'I was not the one, who did not want to use a grass bed in the first place,' Lothy said, planting a kiss on his shoulder.

'Now you are telling me,' he groaned and then looked at her with a glint in his eyes: 'How now, my lady, what say you to a bath in the stream? Or do you only take to sea water?'

'No, indeed - as queen of Rohan I think that I'll have to get used to whatever water we have,' she grinned mischievously. 'Race you to the stream!' and then she quickly rose and raced ahead of him.

'It's good that no one is here to see but me', he thought at the sight of the unclad Lothíriel running down to the steam; a sight which nearly undid him again. 'Oh, well I don't presume that my present outfit is any better' he mused looking down himself.

Lothíriel got out of the water first, feeling a little chilled. She lay down in the sun to dry a little before she put on her tunic. She could not, however, keep her eyes off her husband's muscular form as he strode towards her out of the water, and she was quite determined that she would get him on his back in the grass before they went home.

'What are you thinking of, Lothy, you have such a mischievous look on your face. It's probably something quite inappropriate, knowing you,' Éomer grinned cheekily as he came towards her, flinging himself next to her on the blanket.

'Quite, my Lord,' she replied 'and if you want to get something to eat before we starve to death out here, I suggest that you put some clothes on!' Éomer grinned and stood to don his breeches and his shirt.

They opened the hamper and took out the food, which Fréalin had prepared for them. 'You realize that both she and Éothain knew quite well why you intended taking me out here?' she asked.

'Oh, yes and I am sure that we may expect a lot of smirking faces when we get back to Edoras, but the people of Rohan are broadminded and they do not begrudge a newly-wed couple their privacy – and the activities that follow', he said.

'Furthermore, that is the only way that Rohan will ever have an heir, so I don't think that they will be complaining.'

'You are quite incorrigible, you know,' she said with a smile.

'Yes, and you love it', he grinned, handing her a cup of wine. 'To you, my lovely queen – for our first month of married life.'

After the meal, they both settled down to rest. Lothíriel sat with her back against a tree and Éomer rested his head in her lap. Suddenly she realised that he had fallen asleep. He looked just like a young boy as he laid there, his eyes closed and his features relaxed. Lothíriel stroked his hair gently as she looked out over the landscape towards the mountains and seeing Edoras situated against the mountains, the Golden Hall shining in the sun. 'No, my love,' she thought, 'I shall never be unhappy here.'

After a while, Éomer woke and looked up at her. He raised himself up to sit beside her, taking her hand in his. 'And what would you like to do now, my love?'

She looked up at him, 'Oh, I have an idea' she said, flinging herself at him and pressing him down on the blanket.

'Ah, an attack', he grinned, 'well, as unconditional surrender is not in my creed, I would like to hear your terms'. Lothíriel straddled him, began removing her tunic, as she looked triumphantly at him and then leaned down to kiss him. 'Oh, I see' he said when he got his breath back, 'these terms might be acceptable to me.'

He started to move against her, letting his hands roam her body. He had not bothered lacing his shirt and it therefore came off easily, and as she had not bothered donning her breeches, only his remained – and it did not take her long get those off. She straddled him again; 'This will be on my terms' she grinned mischievously at him, bending down to kiss him, letting things go the inevitable way.

When their passion died down and their breathing had returned to normal, Éomer kissed his wife one last time and went down to the stream to get washed. 'We'd better be heading back before it gets dark, otherwise they will send out a search party – and if we stay, we will probably continue like this, and will be found in a compromising state.'

Lothíriel smiled happily and went down to wash as well, while Éomer whistled for the horses and saddled up. Holding the reins of her horse, Lothíriel went to Éomer 'I want to ride back with you; we can lead Móna.'

'As you wish, my Queen' Éomer said and then continued, a devilish grin on his face 'and now everybody will know for sure what we have been up today.'

**Two months later**

Lothíriel had been feeling a bit odd the last couple of weeks; a bit queasy in the mornings and very tired at times. She wondered what this could be, but was really not in doubt. She was expecting their child.

She confided in Fréalin: 'Should I tell him now, Fréalin, or should I wait? I am only a couple of months gone, and I'm afraid that he will lock me in a glass cage when he finds out because he is afraid that something will happen to me. I so want to go to Ithilien to see Éowyn and Faramir, not to speak of my father and family'.

Fréalin comforted her 'You are not to give birth until this spring, my Lady, and you are a strong, young woman. Childbirth is no sickness, and you will be able to move about until then. You may not be able to ride up until the end, but you will certainly be able to travel. You will see your family at the harvest celebrations.'

Éomer had been seeing a deputation from the Westfold. He was still sitting on his throne contemplating matters; his brow furrowed, but he had dismissed both his counsellors and the marshals.

Lothíriel opened the side door and looked at him: 'May I have a moment, your Majesty' she asked.

'Certainly, always my queen' he said. She walked up to him and he drew her onto his lap. 'I have something to tell you', she said, trying to put up a serious face.

'What is it, is anything wrong, Lothíriel?' he inquired with a hint of worry in his voice.

'That depends very much on how you would feel about it. But how say you about an heir to this throne? Or may be a strong, young shield maiden to take over where her aunt left?'

Éomer looked disbelievingly at his wife 'What are you saying, Lothy? Are we – are you ..........?'

'Yes, my love – we are having a child; and don't you start putting me in cage because of it. Fréalin says that I'm a strong and healthy young woman and .....' Lothíriel was almost rambling.

Éomer put his mouth over hers to stop her from continuing. 'My darling wife, do you really think that I would do something like that? Don't you think that I have learned something from having Éowyn for a sister? Do you for one moment think that she has let Faramir stop her in any of her activities just because she is having their child in a couple of months?'

She looked at him and wrapped her arms round his neck, as he continued: 'On the contrary, my love. Just the other day I received a letter from Faramir telling me of all the things, he has not been able to prevent Éowyn from doing. If he had tried, he would have been a head shorter; she would have bit it off.'

'So, do you really think that I would stop _you_. How could I; you are as hotheaded and stubborn as she is. I would rather fight the armies of Mordor than fight any of you! Aragorn may be able to stop Arwen – although I doubt it, but I certainly am not stupid enough to try.' He pulled her closer and kissed her passionately, 'but I am deliriously happy – as long as it doesn't....' He cut himself off, looking at her.

'What?' she asked innocently, having a notion what he was going to say. 'Prevent us from, well you know ....'. 'It should not', she grinned, 'not for a long time yet and when we have the baby – well, I am sure that Fréalin would not mind looking after it every once in a while.'

'I love you, woman, you know that', Éomer rose, taking her with him in his arms, 'and I feel like I could shout it to the whole world, but I think I'll start by telling Éothain and.... perhaps write a couple of letters. Would you want one to go to your father?' he asked with a smile, setting her down in front of him.

Lothíriel looked up at her tall husband: 'Aye, that I would; if only I could be sure that he will not be rushing to Edoras to do, what you will not – stop me from doing anything.'

'He won't,' Éomer assured her 'he realises that you are now a true woman of Rohan' he grinned 'fiercely independent and strong.'

'Oh, but I have always been that, my Lord, 'my marriage to you has just made these things come to perfection.'

'Oh, yes – of that I am sure, my love, these past months have convinced me.' Éomer grinned.

'We will be able to go and see Éowyn and your family. And now that you are a true woman of Rohan, I can tell you that women of this country have always travelled on horseback, also when they are with child, and so can you.'

But - I want you to promise me that you will not overdo things; if you go riding, no more free runs over the plains. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you or our child – Lothy, promise me; slow trots are all you are going to do. And, when we go to Minas Tirith, you will ride in a carriage!'

'Are you through giving orders, my Lord and King? ' Lothíriel grimaced, 'I will do as you say, if for nothing else then to keep you silent.'

Éomer grinned 'This must be a first, but I am content. Let us go write those letters to everyone – and then I can shout the news from the rooftop!' He encircled her waist and held her for a moment: 'It's good that I am bigger than you; otherwise I would not be able to reach around your waist as you grow.'

'Yes, but you are not bigger than you can lie down', she quipped, throwing her arms around his neck, 'and I intend to prove that repeatedly as long as I am able to!'

'Talking about married bliss,' Éomer said to himself, 'this must be it, or else I am much mistaken!' Grinning, he followed his wife out of the hall.

Spring, About Seven Months later 

Lothíriel and Éomer had, indeed, been able to attend the celebrations in connection with the births of the heirs of Ithilien and Gondor. Everybody had been pleased to hear that also Rohan was going to be blessed with an heir shortly.

When she was told, Éowyn quipped, 'Knowing my brother, I suspected that it would not take long. Make sure it is a boy, Lothy, otherwise he will not hesitate long ere you are on your way again.'

Lothy laughed at her sister-in-law 'It is a good thing, Éowyn, that I was raised among men, otherwise you would indeed have been able to shock me with the things you say. However, I am happy; I did promise Éomer that I would fill the empty halls at Edoras with our children and we have got to start somewhere. I would be nice, though, with a boy – since both yours and Arwen's are boys – they will be able to bond when they are older.'

Imrahil was, of course, thrilled that he was going to be a grandfather and he promised that he would attend the winter solstice celebrations at Edoras along with Lothíriel's brothers.

Éomer was glad that some of their family had come; Éowyn and Faramir would have, too, but travelling in mid-winter with a young child had not been possible; instead they would be coming in spring when Lothíriel's child was due. Imrahil also promised that he would be there for the birth of his grandson 'or daughter', Lothíriel reminded him.

The winter went by, and spring was drawing near. Lothíriel was due to give birth in the first month of spring. She looked lovelier than ever; she was getting heavier, but still managed to go about her daily work and activities. Éomer had thought about getting her to slow down, but had abstained knowing that he would lose the battle.

Fréalin had reassured him that he did not have to worry; his wife would do fine, and Éowyn, who had arrived with her husband and son, also told him to stop worrying.

'It is a comforting thought, dear brother, that even big, strong warriors like you and Faramir – and our high king Elessar for that matter – become hen-mothers when it comes to be pregnant wives,' she teased her brother.

Éomer could not help laughing and was thrilled to see that his sister actually bloomed since childbirth and that she and Faramir seemed more in love than ever. He held his young nephew in his arms and mused that soon he would be holding his own son – or daughter.

At night, he and Lothíriel lay in bed and he held her close, feeling the movements of their child when he put his hands on his wife's belly. During the months, their lovemaking had not been restrained, quite the opposite, they had found ways and means to go about it, and even now, hopefully with only a few days to go, he felt slightly aroused feeling his wife's body so close to him.

He smiled to himself. 'You must be able to wait, man' he mused, 'soon it will be back to normal again' and he just rejoiced in holding her.

Imrahil had arrived, this time only bringing his youngest son, Amrothos. Éomer felt good about having his friend and father-in-law with him, as the time grew near. Éothain, who had recently become a father again, smiled at his anticipation and remarked it to Wyn, who smiled. 'It will be good to have little feet in these halls again; it has been a long time. I certainly cannot remember it.'

One day as they were all sitting at breakfast, Lothíriel suddenly looked up from her plate, startled. She looked at her husband; 'I think.... that it has started', she said, 'I think, no, I know that my water just broke.'

She grabbed Éowyn's hand, and Éowyn said, reassuringly 'iI will be a good while yet, Lothy, it was with me' and then she looked at her brother, who was looking both pale and flustered at the same time. 'Faramir and Imrahil' she said 'apart from looking after Elboron, your most important task will be to keep this big oaf from panicking.' She grinned reassuringly at Lothíriel, and told one of the maids to fetch Fréalin.

Fréalin immediately took charge; 'I know that you are a healer, lady Éowyn, and that you have given birth yourself, but I do think that I know a bit more about these things.' She placed a reassuring hand on Lothíriel's shoulder.

Éowyn did not complain; she had known Fréalin most of her life and she knew that she had brought more babies into the world than she could count.

'And you', Fréalin told Éomer, 'you keep out of this; men are no good when it comes to the birth of their children.' The look on Éomer's face told everybody that he would be more than happy to comply.

Lothíriel felt in good hands, as she was brought to their bedroom; not to lie down, Fréalin did not think that this would be necessary yet, but to make ready. She sat in one of their high-backed chairs feeling the pains coming and going; from time to time moving about the room. In between she and Éowyn talked quietly. Strangely enough Lothíriel was not afraid, giving birth to a child seemed to her the most natural thing in the world and she could take a little pain for that.

Several hours went by. Imrahil looked in on them from time to time; he told Éowyn that Éomer was pacing up and down the great hall like a lion in a cage; 'I am sure that he will have worn out the stone floor if this goes on until morning,' he said.

'I am sure of that,' Éowyn smiled. Lothíriel heard them talking; she was lying on the bed now; the labours were getting more and more intense.

'Can I speak to Éomer,' she asked, 'I am sure that if he gets to see me, he will calm down somewhat. Please, Fréalin, can I; I am sure that I will not be able to give birth, before I have talked to him.'

Fréalin and Éowyn looked at each other 'Of course you can' Fréalin said, 'but it is not customary that the men ....'

'I am the queen', Lothíriel interrupted her in a strained voice, her face distorted as another labour rushed through her body, 'get the king here!', she commanded. Éowyn could not help laughing and motioned to her husband's uncle: 'Do it' she mouthed. Imrahil cast a glance at his daughter and ran to get his son-in-law.

Éomer burst into the chamber, looking alarmed, his eyes red and his hair looking tousled as if he had drawn his hands through it several times.

He looked at his sister 'Is anything wrong?' his voice sounding raspy.

'No – I just wanted to see you and speak to you', Lothíriel said and she smiled through her pain seeing her big and strong husband looking like this.

Éomer knelt beside the bed, taking his wife's hand. She smiled at him, stroking his hair, 'Do not worry about me', she said, 'I shall be fine; I am in good hands. Now, go back to father and Faramir; I will have them call you as soon as our child is born. Think of a name; it should be a good, strong Rohirric name for our firstborn.'

Éomer smiled through his worries 'I do love you, you know, but if I had known how much pain you would have to go through, I might not have lain with you.'

'Oh, yes you would', Lothíriel said with a strained smile as another labour went through her. Éomer looked at her and squeezed her hand. He bent down and kissed her softly; then he got up and went to the door, looking back before he closed it. 'She'll be fine' Éowyn assured him, 'it will not be long now.'

Éomer went back to the hall and continued out the heavy doors to stand on the stairs overlooking the plains of Rohan; it was close to dusk and only the snowy peaks of the White Mountains could be seen. He took a deep breath, inhaling the cool night air. 'It will be good when it is over' he mused 'if I have to go through the same thing every time, we may not have as many children as we have planned.'

Suddenly it came to him: 'If it is a son, he shall be Elfwine', he thought, 'and if it is a daughter, I would like to name her for my mother – although I have to talk to Éowyn about that.'

Leaning on one of the posts, he stood long in thoughts, which were interrupted, as Faramir opened the door: 'Éomer, I think that you should come in now; Lothy is asking for you.'

Éomer hurried inside and down the corridor to their room. He knocked softly on the door and entered the bedroom, his heart pounding as if he had been running. Lothíriel was leaning against the headboard, looking tired but happy. Fréalin was busy clearing away cloths and other things, and she and Éowyn silently left the room, Éowyn squeezing her brother's shoulder as she passed him.

'Come and greet the heir to the throne of Rohan, my Lord' Lothíriel said softly, looking tenderly at the bundle in her arms.

Éomer approached the bed and sat down on the edge of it. Lothíriel reached out her hand and he pressed it to his cheek. 'You are crying, my love'. Éomer looked at the child in her arms; 'Is it .....?' 'Yes, it is your son, Éomer King. Would you like to hold him?'

Éomer hesitated, but then took the bundle, which Lothíriel handed to him; he looked down into the face of his son, unbelievingly and dazed. He saw a little face, a bit red and wrinkly, dark hair still slightly damp and a little fist waving in the air.

'So small' he said and looked at his wife, his great love for her showing in his face. He leaned over and kissed her 'Thank you, my love; you really are a warrior.'

Éowyn came through the door, 'She should rest now, brother, and I think that your father-in-law would like to see his grandson.' Éomer handed their son back to his mother 'There you are, my love, sleep well; I shall miss you tonight.'

Lothíriel smiled up at her husband 'If you want to sleep in here with your son and me, I would like that very much but I cannot guarantee that he will keep quiet all night.' Éomer said 'I might – but that depends on how drunk Faramir and Éothain are planning to get me tonight, as this calls for a celebration.'

Lothíriel laughed. 'You really are incorrigible, you rogue – see you in the morning, then. Will you tell me tomorrow which name you have chosen?'

'That I will'', he said bending down to kiss her again and left the room.

In the corridor he met Imrahil, who embraced his son-in-law; he did not say anything but looked quite happy. Éomer went back to the hall, where his brothers-in-law as well as Éothain, Gamling and Wyn greeted him along with a couple of jugs of Rohirrim ale.

They toasted the queen and the heir of Rohan 'What are you calling him?' Wyn asked.

'That, my old friend, you will know tomorrow. I will tell Lothíriel first, and if she approves; I will name him from the stairs of Meduseld in front of our people – and then you will know, too.' He grinned happily, sitting on his throne stretching out his long legs.

'Quite an image of contentment', Faramir quipped 'but I know exactly how you feel, brother.' Imrahil and Éowyn joined them

'They are both sleeping now', Éowyn said.

'Later I will go and sit with them for a while', said Éomer. They all sat in the hall for a while, drinking and talking, but it had been a long day and they soon went to get some rest.

Éowyn kissed her brother goodnight and took her husband's hand. 'Let's to our son, my love, I think he shall need something to eat before he and I sleep.' The others followed shortly after.

Éomer sat for a while in the dark hall, savouring the last of his ale. Then he rose and went to his and Lothíriel's room; he opened the door silently and went over to the bed, where his wife was sleeping soundly. Beside her, in a small cot his son was lying. He looked down at the sleeping baby and smiled. He had not intended to stay, but after a while he undressed and slipped under the covers beside his wife; she moved in her sleep with a small grunt and he put his arms around her. She snuggled into his arms, resting her cheek beneath his chin, and he went to sleep, blissfully smiling.

Next morning he realized just how tired he had been. When he woke, he saw Lothíriel sitting in one of the chairs, feeding their son.

'Are you supposed to get up, my love' he asked.

'Good morning, my King', she said, 'Fréalin said that I could, if I felt like it. And your son demanded something to eat. Did you sleep well?'

'Aye, I did and I dreamt pleasantly about you,' he grinned. He got up and went into the next chamber to get washed and put some clothes on.

Stepping out, he saw that Fréalin had entered the room to take care of the baby.

'I hope that you did not disturb them last night, you rogue.' Fréalin had been with Théoden for so long that she regarded the siblings as her own, just as she had done with Théodred.

'No, I did not; I know you would have had my hide, if I did.' Éomer answered. Fréalin had brought a tray with breakfast for them, and they sat down to eat while Fréalin nursed the baby and put him back in his cot.

'Are you going to tell me what you are going to name our son?' asked Lothíriel.

'Yes, I am – getting curious, are we?' he said with a roguish grin. 'I have decided that we shall name him Elfwine – that is if you like the name?'

Lothíriel pondered this for a while and then she said, 'Yes that is a good name for a king of Rohan. What would you have chosen, had it been a girl?'

'Théodwyn, after my mother I think – that is if Éowyn would not mind it, but that is not the question now''

'No, but it might be – unless you are planning to stick to what you said last night and keep from my bed.'

Éomer looked at her 'Lothy, what sass – and from a new mother! No, that is not what I plan; besides I do not think that I could even if I would. I could not even stay away last night.' He took her hand across the small table and kissed it.

'Well, as you approve of the name, I will tell Wyn to assemble the people of Edoras before the steps of Meduseld this evening for the naming ceremony; I have told you about that, haven't I?

'Yes you did. Should I be present?' she asked.

'Of course. If you feel up to it and if you want to – the mother is usually there, too, even if it is the father, who performs the ceremony. Do you feel up to it?'

She nodded 'I do. I want to be by your side when you tell our people the name of their future king.'

That evening, Éomer stood before his people with his son in his arms and his wife by his side on the steps of the Golden Hall. On his head, the golden crown of Rohan shone. He held his son high in his arms and said: 'People of Rohan, behold the heir of the kingdom of the Éorlingas; his name shall be Elfwine, son of Éomer of the house of Éorl, Prince of the Riddermark.'

The people shouted 'Hail, Elfwine, son of Éomer. Hail Éomer, King of the Mark and Lothíriel, Queen of the Mark' and they all knelt to the royal family. Éomer held his son in his arms and took Lothíriel's hand, proudly kissing it as they acknowledged the greetings of their people.


End file.
